Chapter 35
For the remainder of the long weekend, a kind of darkness enveloped the Sunny Side.
Not that my guests noticed. Thanks to an eat-in special at Matzo-Rella, BOGO power shakes at Boost, and a Presidents’ Day reading and signing by a local presidential biographer at Shelf Love, they were all happily occupied for fixed stretches of time, and Xander had the privacy he needed to hit the spa and stay strong and ambulatory.
But now that the goalpost had moved and the game had changed, the joy had gone out of our little operation.
Then the holiday weekend was over, and the last couple checked out.
Everyone raved about their stay, a few even posting five-star reviews of the Sunny Side Bed-and-Breakfast online.
As a result, reservations for rolling spring break throughout March and April were already beginning to trickle in.
Only, it was hard to celebrate when there was such a big question mark hanging over my future with Xander.
Drew continued to check in daily with his dad. According to his reports, those three hunters had yet to make any progress installing their new equipment and seemed to be drinking their frustration. But I lived in dread of a change in the status quo.
And the worst part was, I couldn’t even give that problem the attention it deserved.
The day of the hearing about the proposed stadium was fast approaching, so I was up to my eyeballs in old photo albums and moth-eaten guest books.
My friends had done their homework and were all helping where they could.
But ultimately, it was up to me to put together the case to save the Sunny Side. And save the neighborhood.
* * *
The day before the hearing, I looked up from the computer at the front desk. I was in the middle of filing the Sunny Side Bed-and-Breakfast’s application for historic status. We had a solid case. And, I believed, a decent chance for approval. Still, if there was just a little more time…
But there wasn’t. The application had to be submitted today. Otherwise, our argument tomorrow against the new stadium wouldn’t have any real teeth.
As I paused to stretch my back, the clean, fresh scent of the sea cut through the dust I’d been inhaling from the old guest registers.
Xander.
For the last week or so, he’d been respecting my request for space—but God, how I missed his smell! I breathed him in greedily as he walked up beside me.
“You look tired,” he said.
I shrugged. “I have to do this.”
“I know,” he said with a nod.
“And I hate that we have all this unresolved stuff between us,” I said, “but I—”
“Hannah,” he said, holding up a hand to stop my rambling, “I know. You’re doing what you need to do to save your home. Just as I would to save mine.”
I frowned. I didn’t like the comparison he was drawing. It made it seem like, if he was okay with me going to the public hearing about the stadium, I should be okay with him going back to his undersea world.
FYI, I was not okay. Not even close.
“I just spoke with Drew,” he told me.
My body tensed, and my heart leapt to my throat. “And—?”
“And things with the three seamen are unchanged.”
I sagged in relief.
“He also reminded me that they only have the boat slip rented through the end of March,” he added. “And since it’s already almost the end of February…”
I perked up. “Our problem could be gone in a few weeks?”
He allowed himself a small smile. “Perhaps.”
God, I missed that smile. I missed him.
I missed him like home.
Today’s news had been good, but there was no telling what tomorrow would bring. And there were a lot of tomorrows until the end of March.
“Listen,” I said. “I’m almost finished here. So, when I’m done…maybe we can go do something? Together?”
“I thought you needed space,” he said.
“Space is overrated,” I confessed. “Unless you have something better to do.”
He sighed. Now, he looked tired. He must not be sleeping any better without me than I was without him.
“That’s my whole dilemma,” he said. “For me, there is nothing better than being with you.”
* * *
With the crash of the waves in our ears and scent of the sea in our nostrils, Xander and I strolled along the boardwalk. I had this vague idea that maybe, if I could show him a good enough time, he wouldn’t be able to leave.
Although winter was winding down, it was still off season at the Jersey Shore. A couple of T-shirt shops were open, but the food stands, rides, and games of chance were boarded up.
Luckily, there was an indoor arcade.
On my quest for Fun with a capital F, I dragged Xander inside. The music was a little too loud and the flashing lights were a little too bright and people were already hogging the best games. But Skee-Ball was available.
Skee-Ball could be Fun.
I got some quarters, and I showed Xander how to roll the balls down the alley and up the ramp toward the scoring area.
“You want to aim for the center hole,” I told him. “Because that one is worth the most.”
Xander caught on quickly, of course. Soon, we were racking up the points.
“I think we’re on a roll,” Xander said.
“Definitely having a ball,” I returned.
But somehow, our jokes seemed forced. Like we were both trying way too hard.
“What’s that?” asked Xander, indicating the string of blue tickets that was shooting out of our machine.
“Oh,” I said. “The points we score earn us tickets. Then, when we’re done, we can trade in the tickets for a prize.”
After that, Xander became a tad obsessed. Once we’d used up all our quarters, he ripped off the long blue strip of tickets and pulled me over to the redemption center.
Handing the tickets to the guy behind the counter, he peered up at the top shelf. “What should we get?” he asked me. “The giant stuffed bear? Or the giant stuffed flamingo? Or the giant—”
“Take your pick,” said the guy, holding out a couple of key chains.
Seeing the options, Xander’s excitement faded.
Uh-oh. I should have warned him that no one ever won enough tickets to claim the larger prizes.
“Go ahead,” I said, trying to make the best of it. “You choose.”
One key chain had a charm shaped like the state of New Jersey dangling from it. The other had a smiley face.
He chose the smiley-face key chain and gave it to me.
I grinned. But with his come-live-with-me-under-the-sea proposal still hanging over us, I felt irrationally disappointed when he didn’t pick New Jersey.
* * *
There was a popcorn cart by the door, and the aroma was too tempting. We bought a couple of bags on the way out and started munching.
As soon as we stepped out onto the boardwalk, a seagull swooped in, landing at our feet. He squawked up at us.
“Look,” said Xander with a smile. “Isn’t that cute? He wants some.”
“No, don’t,” I said—but too late. He was already tossing some popcorn onto the boards.
That was all it took.
In a blink, a few more gulls hit the boardwalk in front of us, fighting each other for the popcorn.
Then, a few more joined them.
In a flash, we were surrounded. And with those few scattered pieces already eaten, they weren’t just fighting among themselves anymore.
They started getting aggressive with us, moving in uncomfortably close, screeching and pecking at the boards near our feet.
When one overly bold bird had the audacity to peck at the toe of my boot, I decided we needed to get out of here before it turned into a full-blown Hitchcock movie.
“Run!” I shouted, dumping my whole bag of popcorn onto the boardwalk. Following my lead, Xander emptied his too. And while the birds attacked the popcorn, we made our escape.
We didn’t stop running until we were well away from the gulls. But when we slowed to a walk, we were laughing.
“Sorry,” I said, catching my breath. “Those birds really need to calm down.”
“Maybe they should go to a yoga re-tweet.”
We broke out in fresh laughter. Real laughter, this time.
So, maybe this date wasn’t such a disaster after all?
Xander slid his arm around me, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. Then, realizing what I’d just leaned into, I pulled quickly away.
“Oh, shit,” I said.
“Literally,” said Xander, also realizing. One of the seagulls had pooped on him.
Now, this was just ridiculous.
“Well, you know,” I said, trying for a save, “some people think it’s good luck.”
He frowned doubtfully. “What do you think?”
I was a terrible liar. Plus, there was no reason to lie to Xander. If this date was shaping up to be a Fail with a capital F, it was because I wasn’t being real.
“I think I just want to go back to the B and B,” I said. “And take a really hot shower. And maybe just…hang out?”
Xander nodded.
And so, that was what we did.